


Happily

by websters_lieb



Series: The Ever After [3]
Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix It, M/M, Moving In Together, SOFT RICHIE, Soft Eddie, chaotic duo, middle aged gays in love, post chapter 2, soft to feral to soft to feral
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/websters_lieb/pseuds/websters_lieb
Summary: Falling in love is just the beginning, maintaining that love, for better or worse, is the hard part.-Eddie and Richie’s lives together, Post “The Ever After”





	Happily

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for sexual content and excessive fluff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life: Eddie and Richie move to New York City

-

**Part 1 - Richie**

-

Richie is wearing his ‘incognito celebrity’ outfit (zip up sweatshirt, t-shirt, baggy jeans and a baseball cap), because for the first time in a month he’s in a reasonably sized city instead of butt-fuck, Maine. Specifically he’s in Portland, Maine, and he’s minutes from boarding a plane bound for New York City, New York. Which means he’s going home.

Kind of.

The thing about being a semi-celebrity comedian with no close family to speak of and an insanely large paycheck is that you don’t really live anywhere. Richie had gone to college in LA, because that’s what you did when you wanted to make it in the entertainment industry. Then he had moved to New York to work on SNL for a few years, then he moved back to LA because he started doing stand up, and now he has a house in both cities but no _ home _ to speak of. 

But now he’s going to make one. With Eddie. They’re going to New York City. They’re going to stay at Richie’s apartment in Manhattan until they decide if they want to find a place of their own. Eddie is going to get his things (which have already been neatly packed and set aside) from his old house (the one he had shared with his wife) and then take them to Richie’s apartment (which Richie has never shared with anyone) and then they’re going to live together.

Which. Holy Shit. 

Two months ago Richie could never have imagined his life would change so drastically. Two months ago Richie didn’t even remember who Eddie Kaspbrak was. Two months ago Richie thought his life was fine. Not great, not terrible, not anything really. Fine. He went out with people he knew. He made them laugh. He performed stand up that somebody else had written, and people loved it. He was famous, and rich, and his life was Fine.

Now he isn’t sure if he even has a career anymore (his agent’s voicemails have gone from ‘angry’ to ‘furious’ to ‘murderous’ to ‘frightingly calm’ over the past month), and it seems like the people he used to hang out with didn’t notice his month long absence. His old life has been shattered and he’s flying by the seat of his pants. But somehow he’s happier than he can ever remember being.

“We are now boarding first class passengers and families with young children.” A flight attendant says over a speaker, and Eddie perks up beside Richie.

“Fucking finally.” Eddie grumbles, “Why the fuck was there an hour long delay? It’s sunny out. The weather is clear between here and New York. A fucking hour long delay, and we rushed here because we thought we were gonna be late.”

“Really?” Richie asks, putting on a mock-interested voice. “Tell me more about the weather, and the hour long delay. I don’t think you’ve mentioned it for at least thirty seconds now.”

Eddie is tired and cranky because it’s eight in the morning and they’ve been up since four. They had planned to get a nice breakfast in Portland before going to the airport, but a combination of Richie’s bad time management, a popped tire, and a fuckton of traffic had left them rushing through airport security barely half an hour before their flight was scheduled to leave.

And then the flight had been delayed an hour.

If anyone else had spent the last forty-some minutes snarking about unreasonable delays and the weather and how much they hated airport food Richie would have punched them by now. Or at least started banging his head against a wall. But snarky and tired Eddie was one of Richie’s top ten Eddie moods, because for some reason it was hilarious to Richie that this reasonably mannered and intelligent man became a raging dick when he was tired and things weren’t going his way.

Right now, Eddie is glaring at Richie. It’s not the playful glaring that Flirty Eddie™ uses or the ‘trying to be serious’ glaring that Reluctantly Charmed Eddie™ uses, but actual glaring. Richie should probably stop goading him before this leads to violence. 

But.

“No, really, Eds, tell me again. It’s not like I’ve literally been here the whole time, right next to you. I’d really like to know.”

Eddie is probably going to try to kill Richie with the TSA approved mini pair of scissors in his bag. It will be a death by a thousand cuts. What a way to go.

They trade insults back and forth while waiting in line to board, Eddie’s retorts becoming increasingly creative and threatening. The flight attendant flashes Richie a worried look as they hand her their tickets.

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his smiley face pancakes and juicebox this morning” Richie tells her confidentially.

“Oh, go fuck yourself with a cactus, Richard.” Eddie replies. The flight attendant’s eyes widen. Richie smiles wider.

-

Richie is sitting in a window seat (Eddie was very insistent that he preferred the aisle so that he didn’t have to climb over anyone to go to the bathroom), so he gets a good view of New York City as their plane comes down from cruising altitude to prepare to land. Freedom tower stands tall, high above the other skyscrapers. Richie always loves how beautiful New York is from above. The city itself can appear pretty gross from the ground, but from thousands of feet overhead it’s amazing to look at.

“Eds, look.” Richie says, nudging Eddie. Eddie had fallen asleep almost immediately after takeoff and Richie hadn’t wanted to wake him, hoping the extra rest would snap his boyfriend out of his pissy mood. Eddie jerks, mumbling something unintelligible as he wakes up (which is so fucking cute that Richie think he might die). He blearily blinks at Richie, who points out the window at the skyline, and Eddie leans in to look.

His shoulder presses warmly into Richie’s as he leans over, and they’re sitting so close together that they’re touching from shoulder to knee. Richie puts his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, reveling in the fact that this is allowed. He can touch Eddie like this, casually. This is allowed.

“It’s weird.” Eddie says, his voice rough from sleep. “I’ve lived here for nearly twenty years, but it feels like somewhere new. So much has changed since I left.”

“Good change, right?” Richie asks. He doesn’t know why he needs the reassurance. He wants to believe that Eddie wants this, but he’s aware that this whole thing might blow up in their faces, and Eddie might hate him forever for ruining his life. But Eddie wants this, dammit, and Richie isn’t going to let himself do the thing where he ruins this before it can ruin him, because it could all work out. It could, it can, maybe it will, and Richie wants this more than anything.

“Yeah, of course,” Eddie replies, “Don’t be stupid, my life sucked two months ago.”

“Now you get sucked instead.” Richie quips. It’s not his best line, but not every joke can be a zinger. Sometimes it’s about quantity over quality.

“You’re an idiot.” Eddie deadpans.

“So you tell me.” Richie responds, tightening his arm around Eddie’s shoulder momentarily. Eddie leans further into him, letting his head tilt so that it’s leaning back against Richie’s arm. He settles more comfortably against Richie’s side, grabbing Richie’s free hand and threading their fingers together.

This. This. _ This. _ These things that Richie hadn’t even thought to dream of. The little things, the moments of comfort, of closeness, of the knowledge that Eddie is his to love. Richie knows he’s a disgusting sap, a completely hopeless romantic, but he’s so happy in this moment that he doesn’t even care. If he was in a movie then soft romantic music would be playing and he’s completely okay with that.

The plane begins its final descent, and then they’re landing. They wait for the plane to taxi to the gate for what feels like a half hour, and then they’re on terra firma in New York City. 

Their bags are in the last load of luggage unloaded onto the conveyor belt at baggage claim, which is just their luck, so it’s another half hour before they are able to get to a cab and make their way to Richie’s apartment. Richie takes one of Eddie’s two large bags (because chivalry isn’t dead and also Eddie was recently stabbed) and waves at the doorman as they enter. They take the elevator to the 18th floor (“You must have quite a view” Eddie observes), and Richie fishes out his keys to unlock his door, and then they’re inside his apartment and his new life and his old life collide. 

The apartment is clean, because Richie has barely spent any time in it since he bought the place and he has a cleaning service that comes by weekly when he’s staying here. He didn’t decorate it, really, he just bought some comfortable furniture and a big TV. It doesn’t look empty or unlived in, exactly, because Richie has always been a collector of _ stuff _, but it doesn’t quite feel like a home. There are no soft blankets thrown over the back of the couches or personal touches on the walls. 

Eddie looks around, and Richie feels stupidly nervous as he watches Eddie take in his surroundings. It’s just an apartment. Just a room. 

“It’s nice,” Eddie says.

Which is not much of a reaction at all, really. Richie needs more.

“It’s nice?” Richie repeats back at him. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Eddie blinks at him. “It means it’s nice. I like it”

“You don’t sound like you like it.” Richie replies. And he’s right, Eddie’s voice doesn’t sound displeased, but it also doesn’t sound genuine. He doesn’t like the apartment, Richie knows it. It was stupid to have him move in so early, because he hates the place and he’s gonna be miserable, and he’s gonna break up with Richie because of his stupid apartment.

“I do like it!” Eddie insists. “It’s just not what I expected, it’s so modern. I always imagined you’d live somewhere kinda retro, I guess my brain had you stuck in the eighties. It really is nice though. I like the hardwood.”

“Oh,” Richie says. Maybe he had jumped to a conclusion or two. “I didn’t really do the decorating, I don’t stay here much.”

An expression Richie can’t quite read crosses over Eddie’s face, but it’s gone as soon as it came and then Eddie smiling coyly. “What do you say we go drop off our stuff in your room and make this place feel a little bit more like home?” He asks.

“Our room.” Richie corrects. That part is important. Richie doesn’t want things to just be _ his _ anymore. 

“Our room, then” Eddie agrees, taking a fistful of Richie’s t-shirt and using it to pull Richie down slightly so that they’re nearly the same height. “Our bed.”

Eddie kisses him.

Richie has been kissing Eddie for weeks now, but Eddie’s initiative still surprises him. He had never expected Eddie to know what he wanted and be willing to take it. He had expected a gay-awakening freak out followed by a slow acclimation to the concept of being attracted to a man, but Eddie (as always) has surprised him. More often than not it’s Eddie that initiates physical affection, with Richie just hanging on for the ride.

It’s glorious.

Eddie kisses Richie hard and Richie gives as good as he takes. It’s not enough, and it’s over too soon, when Eddie pulls away and grabs one of his suitcases. 

“So where’s _ our _ bedroom?” He asks, and _ oh, _this is more than okay.

Richie grabs his own suitcase and leads Eddie down the hall to the room. They’ve barely made it inside before Eddie is letting go of his bag and shoving Richie towards the bed.

Richie loves being challenged in bed, fighting for every scrap of control. He loves the foreplay, the teasing, the heady feeling of Eddie pushing him down into the mattress before Richie can try to flip them. He had always thought sex with Eddie would be amazing, but his imagination hadn’t been able to do justice to how beautiful Eddie is when he takes charge and asks for what he wants.

Right now, Eddie apparently wants to kiss Richie senseless, which Richie is more than okay with. He all but falls back onto his king sized bed, and then he shuffles back. Eddie climbs on top of him, straddling his waist, and Richie’s hands instinctively go to Eddie’s ass, which earns him a moan and a buck of Eddie’s hips against his groin.

They kiss like that for a few minutes, pulling and pushing and grabbing at anything they can reach. It’s passion and lust and affection and longing and Richie can feel his heart in his throat, beating hard against his Adam’s apple as he runs his fingers through Eddie’s (so fucking soft) hair. 

Then Eddie is kissing his neck, and down his chest, pulling up Richie’s shirt so that it’s bunched up under his armpits. He bites at Richie’s right pec, then runs his teeth against the sensitive skin above his ribcage. He presses light kisses to Richie’s stomach and the sight could make Richie come right there if he wasn’t waiting in tense anticipation of what might happen next.

Eddie has displayed repeatedly over the past few weeks that he seriously loves Richie’s cock. He even said it out loud, once, seconds before he came while Richie rubbed himself against Eddie’s hip and jerked Eddie’s cock with his fist. Eddie has not, however, actually sucked Richie’s cock yet.

Richie doesn’t really care whether or not he gets his dick wet, because as long as he can be close to Eddie and have Eddie touching him he’s happy, and he’d never want to pressure Eddie into anything. Eddie’s never had a proper sex life before, and Richie wants to give him every pleasure he can, not demand pleasure from him.

But.

That doesn’t mean that he would say no to a blowjob, which appears to be where this is going.

Eddie’s hand falls to Richie’s bulge, rubbing at it slowly before moving up to unbutton Richie’s jeans and pull down his pants and underwear together. Richie opens his mouth and starts to say “you don’t have to.” But Eddie shoots a glare up at him, leans down, and licks a long strip from the base of Richie’s cock all the way to the tip.

Richie’s never had anyone glare at him while giving him a blowjob before. He’s also never been so hard in his life. He doesn’t want to psychoanalyze that right now, so instead he leans into the pleasure and lets out a breathy moan.

Eddie smiles and dips his head again, taking the tip gently into his mouth and sucking lightly, flicking his tongue over the slit. Richie focuses on not jerking his hips. His hands have fisted into the comforter he’s laying on top of. He’s biting his lower lip. He feels like he’s about two seconds from falling apart and they’ve barely even gotten started.

Eddie spends a few minutes experimenting. He licks at the shaft, sucks as much as he can fit into his mouth, kisses along the prominent vein running along the base, bites at Richie’s thighs. Richie knows his mouth his running, but he has no idea what he’s saying. He’s either worshiping Eddie or cursing him, but it’s all one in the same, really. And then, Eddie takes a deep breath, looks Richie in the eye, and sucks him down to the root. 

Richie doesn’t have the biggest cock in the world, but he is a bit above average, and Eddie has never sucked a dick before. He should be choking, spluttering, pulling off in panic, but he maintains eye contact and breathes through his nose, and then pulls up before lowering back down again, and all that can go through Richie’s head is _ ‘that little fucker practiced this’ _ and _ ‘holy shit I’m gonna come.’ _

He frantically pulls at Eddie’s shoulders in warning, spluttering “I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” and Eddie pulls off and strokes him roughly with his hand, and then Richie is coming.

He floats on the high of his pleasure for a minute, and when he comes back to earth he stares at Eddie reverently.

“Where the fuck did you learn that?” Richie asks as he pulls his pants back up, still slightly out of breath.

Eddie’s cheeks color slightly and he shrugs. “I watched some videos.”

“Videos don’t teach you how to suppress a gag reflex, man.”

Eddie blushes a deeper red. “I read some articles.”

Richie raises his eyebrows, “Come on, Eds, what are you hiding?”

“I, uh.” Eddie stands up and walks over to one of his suitcases. He unzips on outer pocket and pulls out a gallon sized ziplock bag. 

With a dildo in it.

_ ‘Holy shit,’ _ Richie thinks.

“Holy shit.” Richie says. “Where the fuck did you get that? _ Why _ the fuck did you get that?”

“I’m an adult, Richard. And I would think the purpose would be self explanatory.” 

“Don’t use dry humor, it makes you sound like Stan.” Richie quips, and then Eddie’s comment sinks in. “Wait, did you practice blowjobs on that thing?”

Eddie is so red at this point that Richie isn’t sure if he’ll ever return to his normal skin tone. “I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

Richie kind of wants to laugh, but he doesn’t think that it would help the situation at all. “Babe,” he starts, pushing himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and grabbing Eddie’s hands. “There is literally no possible way you could fuck it up. You could literally throw up on my dick and I would probably thank you.”

“That’s extremely concerning,” Eddie comments, but Richie shushes him.

“Literally anything you do in bed is amazing, because it’s you.” He says, which is probably the most mushy thing he’s ever said to anyone. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining right now. I’m pretty sure you sucked my brain out through my dick. You just killed me, I’m either a zombie or a ghost right now. Not complaining at all.”

Eddie is smiling now, and his cheeks are less red. Maybe Richie really can do this whole ‘relationship’ thing.

“But.” He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase his next statement. “You don’t have to practice for me. Ever. I want to learn together.”

“You’ve done this before.” Eddie says, “I haven’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I haven’t done _ this. _I’ve been in relationships, and I’ve fucked guys, and guys have fucked me, but I haven’t ever done this part, the feelings part. At least not with someone who mattered.”

Eddie smiles again and puts his arms around Richie’s neck. Richie is still sitting on the bed, so he has to look up to make eye contact. “How about I show you what else I’ve been practicing.” He whispers.

This man is going to kill Richie someday.

“But.” Eddie continues, leaning back and letting go of Richie. Richie leans forward to try to catch his arm but Eddie backs up quickly. “First, we have to go to Myra’s and get my things. Get your keys.”

Eddie leaves the room.

Richie stares out the door after him.

“Did you just bribe me with sex?” He yells. “Or, like, extort me? Or something? I don’t know what just happened but it’s definitely illegal.”

“I’ll see you in court, then.” Eddie yells back. It sounds like he’s in the living room now. “Come on, Rich! Car keys!”

Richie sighs and grabs his car keys from his bedside counter. He walks into the living room and glares at Eddie, who has already put his shoes back on.

“You’re using your powers for evil.” He tells his boyfriend. “Pure evil. This is manipulation.”

“Yeah.” Eddie agrees. “But you love it.”

Richie can’t exactly disagree with that, so he sticks his tongue out at Eddie and puts on his shoes.

“Okay. Now to go to my boyfriend’s wife’s house. What could possibly go wrong?”

-

**Part 2 - Eddie**

-

Eddie can’t get over the fact that this is no longer his house.

He’s standing in the entryway of what used to be his house in Brooklyn with Richie and Myra, and the setting is at once familiar and completely foreign. First of all, he’s standing facing the interior of the room, making small talk. His shoes are still on, as is his sweater. Two months ago he’d be the one greeting guests, showing them where the shoe rack is and offering to take their coats.

Myra’s made a few subtle changes to the house over the past month. The first thing he sees is that their wedding picture has been taken down. It had been a ghastly thing, both of them smiling stiffly and holding hands like school children. Eddie had been asking Myra to take it down for years, but she had insisted on it staying up. Now it’s gone. A few other pictures are gone, Eddie’s shoes are no longer lined up next to Myra’s on the shoe rack, his keys aren’t hanging next to hers on the hooks by the door. There is a pile of boxes in the living room neatly labeled with things such as ‘Eddie winter clothes’ and ‘Eddie CD’s.’

Myra is acting alarmingly calm. She’s either in denial or is coping remarkably well. She had greeted them both with a smile, giving Eddie a hug and actually shaking Richie’s hand before ushering them inside. She’s offered them refreshments twice now and has sustained the conversation admirably despite Richie’s stilted responses and Eddie’s uncomfortable small talk.

“I really think you were right about me having someone come to stay, Eddie-bear” She’s saying now, still using that nickname that she picked up from Eddie’s mother. “My sister - Mary, not Michelle, Michelle is still in Florida for that new job she likes so much - she’s been staying with me, and it’s really helped with getting used to you being gone. She’s been talking about maybe moving in permanently. She’s got that bad leg - you know, from the car crash - and she says she could use the help getting around. She’s been lovely, really.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Eddie says, processing only about half of what Myra had been saying, but deciding that it seemed to be primarily positive. He likes Mary. She’s sweet and soft spoken but very good at calming Myra down when she was having a fit of fancy. She’ll be a good influence for Myra to have around.

“She actually helped me pack everything up. She wanted to be here to say hi to you but she had to go in to work today. She sends her love and wanted me to ask you to stay in touch with her. She says that even though you want a divorce you’re still family, and I agree.”

Okay, Eddie’s still not sure if Myra’s in denial or not, but at least she seems happy. “Tell her I said thank you.” He says. “We’ve got some work to do at home tonight, so we should really start getting those boxes in the car.”

“Oh! Of course!” Myra exclaims, “And I put aside all your medications! Let me go grab the bag.”

She leaves the room hurriedly, and Eddie sighs and starts towards the living room and the pile of boxes there. 

“She seems… Cheerful.” Richie says carefully, trailing behind him. They both grab a box and head back towards the doorway. Eddie glances over his shoulder.

“I’m not questioning it. As long as she’s willing to sign the divorce papers when the lawyers get them ready I don’t really care what she does.” Eddie replies, “as long as she’s happy.”

Richie opens his mouth to interject but Eddie waves him down. “I know it’s not my responsibility to make her happy anymore, I know that. But I’m still glad she’s not miserable.”

Richie nods. “Yeah, me too. I really wanted to hate her but…”

“She’s hard to hate.” Eddie nods. “I get it. It’s why I didn’t end it sooner. I think it’s how I tricked myself into thinking I was in love with her all those years. She’s so damn nice.”

“I mean, she still looks exactly like your mother,” Richie says. “I guess she’s okay though. I’m not her hugest fan, but I don’t hate her.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie agrees.

They put the boxes in the car and head back inside to grab some more. Myra meets them in the entryway, holding out a large plastic bag full of medication bottles. Eddie takes it and thanks Myra but privately plans to throw the whole thing into the dumpster when they get back to Richie’s. No more bullshit medications for bullshit conditions. If Eddie is going to start a new life, he’s got to let go of his old fears. He can get by without a pill for every single vitamin, and if he gets sick then he gets sick.

He’s a new man.

He might keep the Vitamin D though. And maybe the Omega 3’s and the Iron Supplements. But besides that. He’s a new man.

It takes them about fifteen minutes to move 15 years of Eddie’s life into Richie’s car, and then they say their goodbyes to Myra and get into the car and drive the half hour back to Richie’s apartment. The beauty of Richie living in a fancy high-rise in Manhattan that he probably pays a premium for is that the doorman gets them a luggage cart for them to load the boxes on so they don’t have to make four trips to get everything upstairs. 

“It’s like you live in a hotel.” Eddie says as the elevator doors close.

“I know, there’s actually a swimming pool on the top floor for residents.”

Eddie turns to look directly at his boyfriend. “There’s a fucking swimming pool?”

“Yeah, and a hot tub and a steam room and stuff. It’s very fancy.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says on an exhale. “I’m never fucking leaving this place.”

Richie wiggles his eyebrows at him. “That’s fine by me. I can be your sugar daddy.”

“Nope, nevermind, you ruined it.” Eddie shakes his head. He’s dating an idiot. A rich idiot, apparently. Eddie is well off, but apparently internationally famous comedians make considerably more money than risk analysts. And soon Eddie is going to be unemployed, with no real job prospects until he figures out a new direction for his life. Richie is _ never _ going to stop making ‘sugar daddy’ jokes. Oh god.

Eddie wants to start unpacking as soon as they get all the boxes unloaded from the luggage cart, but Richie insists that they shower and then go “treat themselves” at a good restaurant he knows of to make up for the breakfast date they had missed earlier in the morning. Eddie agrees with little resistance.

The shower is huge, has about a thousand different settings, and is stocked with way more hair and body products than Eddie had expected. Richie hadn’t brought any shampoo or conditioner to Derry when he left his tour. For the past month he’s been stealing Eddie’s. Either he left in such a hurry that he completely forgot to grab something from his stockpile of product, or he just doesn’t actually give a fuck about his hair and just buys things randomly.

He cleans himself off, not trying out any of the shower’s fancy settings for the sake of time. He towels dry and then returns to Richie’s room (Eddie’s room, too, now. _ Their _ room.) and opens a large box labeled neatly in Myra’s handwriting, _ ‘Eddies clothes _.’

As nice as it has been to get away from his old life over the past month, something about the familiar clothes (ones that he hasn’t been wearing and washing repeatedly for a month) is incredibly comforting. He puts on some comfortable casual attire, returns to the bathroom to style his hair, and then goes out into the living room to meet Richie, who gives him a once over, smiles, and says, “You’d better change.”

“What?” Eddie looks down at himself. His clothes aren’t particularly fancy, but they’re fine. They don’t have any holes, they’re clean, not faded. He looks up at Richie suspiciously. His boyfriend is wearing a neatly pressed shirt and slacks. There’s a blazer thrown over a chair nearby him. “Why? Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Richie replies elusively.

“I hate surprises.” Eddie replies.

“I know. That’s why I love them so much.”

Eddie glares at him. “You’re a bastard.”

Richie just keeps smiling. “I’m a bastard who’s buying you dinner, so go get changed, sugar baby.” 

“You’re about one comment away from sleeping on the couch.”

“Not even a day in!” Richie exclaims, falling back against a chair and clapping a hand to his chest. “Eds, you wound me!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns around to return to the bedroom. He rifles through two boxes until he finds an expertly folded light pink shirt and a pair of dark blue slacks with a matching blazer. Eddie puts on the new clothes and returns to the living room and stops in front of Richie, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Is this better?” He asks. Richie’s eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open. His eyes trace down Eddie’s chest and then return to his face. Eddie grins slightly. “Cat got your tongue?”

That snaps Richie out of his reverie. “Shut up, you twink.” He says, which is one of his weaker comebacks.

“I get it, I’m shorter than you, it’s hilarious.”

“You’re also just like, a complete twink.” Richie says. He’s got a bit of a crazy light in his eyes, which means that he’s on a roll now. “You could be seven feet tall and you’d still be a twink. Face it, Eddie-Spaghetti, you’re a twink. It’s just who you are.”

“And what does that make you?” Eddie replies.

“I don’t really fit into any of the main categories.” Richie replies, then tilts his head to the side as if he’s considering his options. “Not big enough for a bear, or hairy enough for an otter. Certainly not a leather daddy. I’m not muscular enough to be a hunk or a twunk.” 

Eddie is not sure what most of those words mean. He’s going to have to do some googling later.

“I have been called a disaster gay before by a friend of mine from college, and I really can’t dispute that.” Richie furrows his brow for a second, then frowns. “Wow, how the fuck did I get this super hot twink to date me?” 

“I have no idea.” Eddie replies, but he steps forward and presses a light kiss to Richie’s lips before leaning back. “So, where are we going?”

Richie smiles too-wide. “It’s a _ surprise _!”

-

Richie refuses to let Eddie peak over his shoulder at the destination on his phone as he orders their Uber, and then spends the whole ride there distracting Eddie (i.e. kissing him senseless in the back seat. Eddie is going to make him leave a very generous tip), so Eddie doesn’t realize how far south they’ve gone until he’s getting out of the Uber at the corner of William street and Beaver street. 

He glances at the restaurant in front of him, then looks around for a second, expecting some other, less fancy restaurant to be nearby.

“Richie,” He says. “This is Delmonico’s.”

“Yes it is.” Richie replies, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “I’m glad you can still read. I was worried about it for a bit there, thought I’d have to re-enrol you in kindergarten.”

“Why are we at Delmonico’s?”

“I wanted to celebrate the move.” Richie says. “Start us off right.”

Eddie smiles. “At least let me split the bill with you.” He says, grabbing Richie’s hand.

“Not a chance.” 

Richie kisses him, cupping Eddie’s face reverently. Eddie loves it when Richie kisses him like this, like he’s a precious thing - but not like he’s breakable. He leans into the kiss, wrapping his arms loosely around Richie’s waist and closing his eyes.

He hears footsteps nearby. A door opens and then shuts loudly. Someone laughs down the street.

They’re in New York City. Richie is a famous comedian (No matter what Richie says about not really being famous, Eddie knows better. The man has been on all the late night shows and has over five million followers on twitter. He’s famous alright). Richie isn’t out, at least not to the wider world. Closteted famous comedians in New York City who get seen kissing men get photographed, and those photographs get sold to tabloids, and then they become headlines. Eddie’s not sure if he wants his face splashed all over the internet as Richie Tozier’s Boyfriend quite yet. Not when everything about this is so new. He’s not sure if Richie wants that either. 

He pulls away.

Richie’s brows furrow for a second, and Eddie grabs his hand reassuringly. 

“We’ll talk about it later.” He says. “Let’s go eat some really expensive steak.” 

They enter the restaurant and Richie talks to the hostess. Their ‘table for two for Tozier’ is all ready for them and they’re seated almost immediately. The waiter is wearing a suit. The tables are covered with white linen and candle light flickers from the centerpieces. 

Eddie’s never been on a date like this before. He and Myra went out to restaurants semi-regularly when they first started dating and in the first couple years that they were married, but never anywhere extravagant, and over the past ten years they’d started eating in almost every night. Myra didn’t like to eat out and Eddie didn’t see the point in spending a lot of money on one evening. He’s a risk analyst, he does practical things like meal prep and pack lunches and not go out to extravagant expensive restaurants.

The waiter shows them to their table. Richie attempts to pull out a chair for Eddie with a flourish, but instead knocks it onto the floor. Eddie and the waiter stare at the fallen chair for a second, and then the waiter quickly moves to rectify the situation and Eddie begins to laugh.

“Shut up.” Richie tells him, his cheeks bright red. “I get it, I’m a klutz.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t laugh your ass off if I did that” Eddie replies, thanking the waiter and sitting down at the table.

“I wouldn’t!” Richie replies insistently. “I would be a perfect gentleman and ignore your faults. Like a good boyfriend should.”

Eddie snorts and picks up his menu, perusing the different options (all of which are expensive and probably delicious) as he continues bickering with Richie. “You spent half an hour last night laughing because you think one of my moles looks like a V.”

“Because it’s hilarious! It’s on your ass! You have a V on your ass!”

“It really isn’t that funny, you’re just an idiot.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“Still an idiot, but now a literal child as well.”

Richie sticks out his tongue at Eddie.

“Yeah, that’s helping your case.” Eddie replies. “What do you think you’re going to get?”

“Oh,” Richie says, picking up his own menu. “My plan is to get the weirdest most fancy sounding thing on the menu.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Eddie tells him. “You are not an adventurous eater. You once refused to eat Mac and Cheese because I put chunks of ham in it.”

“It tasted weird! You ruined perfectly good Kraft!”

“First of all, Kraft Mac and Cheese is disgusting and I only made it because I didn’t feel like going grocery shopping. I was trying to improve it. And second of all,, it was literally just ham and cheese with elbow macaroni, you weirdo.”

“You destroyed the sanctity of Mac and Cheese.”

“You are a crazy person.”

“That’s offensive.” Richie replies. “Ooh! There’s a ‘Raw’ section on the menu. And some sort of appetizer called ‘Fritto Misto’ that seems super weird. I’m gonna get both.”

Eddie looks through the menu until he finds what Richie is talking about. “You dislike all of the component parts of that.” He tells Richie. “You literally hate seafood. Are you actively trying to ruin your own evening?”

“Can’t a guy try to expand his horizons?” Richie asks, and waves the waiter over. Eddie sighs and looks back at his menu.

“I think we’re ready to order.” Richie tells him. “We’ll get the Fritto Misto as an appetizer, and I’ll have the ‘ American Wagyu Tartare.’”

The waiter makes a note on his pad of paper, then turns to Eddie. “I’ll get the Filet Mignon, Medium Rare, and a side of the whipped mashed potatoes.” Eddie tells him.

They also order a bottle of wine, and they’re a glass and a half in each when the appetizer arrives. Richie tries a bite and wrinkles his nose in distaste. 

“That’s disgusting.” He says, and Eddie rolls his eyes and takes it from him. “What the hell is in that?”

“It’s seafood, and horseradish and mustard. All things you don’t like. Which you would have known if you had read the menu or listened to me.” Eddie takes a bite. It’s pretty good, a bit odd, but savory and well seasoned.

“Well you can have it, it’s gross.” Richie tells him, taking a long swig of wine and sticking his tongue out like he’s trying to get the flavor further away from him.

“This place is wasted on you.” Eddie says. “You have the palate of a third grader. I’m pretty sure you would live on Lunchables if you could.”

“Don’t joke about that. I ate so many of those in high school. So. Many. My mom was worried I would get scurvy. She kept putting oranges into my backpack while I wasn’t looking.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a complete disaster.” Eddie asks conversationally.

“Yeah, all the time.” Richie says agreeably. “You’re not any better though.”

“That’s not true!” Eddie responds. He has never in his life been in danger of scurvy. He has always had an almost aggressively perfect balanced diet.

“You literally faked asthma for forty years!” Richie exclaims. Which is true but also unfair.

“That wasn’t my fault.” Eddie tells him.

“It was a little your fault.”

“It was mostly my mom’s fault.”

Richie tips his head and nods in agreement, then says. “Still partially your fault.”

Eddie glares at him. “Remember like fifteen minutes ago, when you said that you were a perfect gentleman and would ignore my flaws?”

“So you admit that you have flaws?” Richie says with a grin.

Eddie is going to kill this man. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t. I have it on good authority that you happen to actually really like me.”

“I will kick you out of your own bed.”

“I’d like to see you try.” 

Richie has that glint in his eye, the one that he gets in an argument or when they’re in bed together. Eddie’s dick twitches. _ ‘Now is not the time.’ _ He thinks to himself, and he takes a deep breath.

Their food arrives.

Eddie’s looks fantastic. A perfectly cooked large hunk of steak, with a bed of vegetables beneath it. The bowl of mashed potatoes is sprinkled with chives and looks perfectly creamy.

Richie’s is a hunk of raw meat with an uncooked egg on top. It’s prettily arranged and probably is the height of quality, but to the untrained eye it just looked kind of gross. Eddie thanks the waiter as Richie looks down at his food in disgust. Once they’re alone, Eddie snickers.

“Is it what you expected?” He asks.

“It looks like an uncooked hamburger patty.” Richie tells him, poking at it with his fork.

“You did order from the ‘raw’ section.” Eddie tells him. He reaches over and pokes the yolk of the egg with his fork, puncturing it and making it leak into the meat below it. Richie mock-gags. 

“Come on, you ordered it.” Eddie goads him. “Take a bite.”

“I think I’m good.” Richie tells him.

“If you take one bite I’ll share my food with you.” Eddie tells him. Richie looks over at Eddie’s beautiful plate, then back down at his own food.

“You’re evil.” He says, and Eddie grins.

“You literally brought this upon yourself. Eat up, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe while you’re being evil, it confuses my dick.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “You’re stalling.”

Richie takes a deep breath and picks up a small piece of meat with his fork. Eddie shakes his head. “No, you gotta have a proper bite.”

“Evil!” Richie repeats, but he scoops up more, uses his free hand to pinch his nose shut, and takes the bite. He chews for a second, disgust evident on his face, then swallows. He immediately grabs the bottle of wine and pours more into his glass, taking a long swig and glaring at Eddie.

“Give me the fucking mashed potatoes.” He says, and Eddie grins and hands them over happily. He had ordered them with this in mind, he knew Richie wouldn’t be able to eat his own food. He cuts his steak in half and moves his plate to the center of the table so that Richie can reach it as well.

They spend the meal leaning in across the table, eating from the same plate. Every time Eddie tries to skewer a bite, Richie reaches over and tries to steal it from him, which leads to a mini sword battle with forks, until Eddie remembers where they are and puts the shenanigans to a stop.

By the time they finish their meal they’ve made it through the full bottle of wine, and Richie orders dessert (Baked Alaska) and two glasses of Port. Eddie’s a bit tipsy, but the warm kind of tipsy that comes with good wine and a good evening. Richie had grabbed Eddie’s hand across the table after the waiter took the plates away and his finger are warm against Eddie’s. Eddie can’t stop smiling. When the dessert arrives Richie claps loudly, drawing some attention from across the restaurant, and Eddie smiles at his ridiculous grandiose disaster of a boyfriend. Who Eddie gets to have all to himself. Who goes out to nice restaurants and orders things he hates and makes bad jokes and doesn’t know when to shut his mouth. 

The waiter sets down the dessert, and Richie immediately knocks a glass of water onto himself in his excitement. He’s cursing and picking up the glass and apologizing to the waiter with self deprecating humor, and before Eddie can think about it he says, “I fucking love you.”

Richie looks straight at Eddie, eyes wide, mouth open, and then he drops the water glass on the floor. This time it shatters. They stare at each other intensely for a second, and then he’s smiling so so wide, and they’re both laughing up a storm, and everyone in the restaurant is looking at them, and maybe Eddie is a disaster too, but at least they’re disasters together.

-

A little over half an hour later they’re stumbling out of the restaurant drunkenly, holding onto each other. They had dropped a shit ton of money on the meal, and left a large tip for the waiter, and Eddie thinks he should worry about Richie spending so much money on him, but Richie is an adult and Eddie trusts him not to bankrupt himself. They all but fall into their Uber, and Richie spends the entire drive hugging Eddie and giggling into his chest about the look on the waiter’s face when Richie had tried to use his fingers to eat the Baked Alaska. Eddie is not proud to admit that he’s also snorting with laughter.

“Oh god, we’re never going to be allowed back.” Eddie says. “We’re probably on some sort of list now.”

“Oh definitely.” Richie confirms. “Like, some sort of no-fly lists but for nice restaurants. They probably share the list with other fancy restaurants in New York. We’re going to have to drive to Staten Island if we ever want to get a fancy meal again. It was worth it though.”

“I think that was the best terrible date I’ve ever been on.”

“Terrible?” Richie asks, sounding affronted.

“It was a disaster!” Eddie insists.

“Yeah,” Richie nods in agreement “But it was a _ fun _disaster.” 

“That’s why I called it the _ best _ terrible date ever.” Eddie replies, running his fingers through Richie’s hair and then tangling his fingers in it. He uses his grip to pull Richie up off his chest, and then he kisses him soundly.

Richie pulls back suddenly. “Did you mean it?” He says breathlessly. “What you said before I broke that glass?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods. “I love you.” This time he says it carefully, looking Richie directly in the eyes as he says it.

“Fuck.” Richie says, leaning in so that their cheeks are touching, he bites lightly at Eddie’s earlobe and then nuzzles against his neck. “I fucking love you so fucking much.”

“I think I’ve loved you the whole time, I just wanted to be sure before I said it, because I’m done with lying to myself, or to you, and then you were just sitting there being a big dummy and I just…” He pulls at Richie’s hair slightly, pulling him off his neck and looking him in the eye again. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Fuck.” Richie says again. He seems to have lost most of his vocabulary at this point. And then he’s kissing Eddie, and Eddie is kissing him, and they’re going to have to leave a good tip for this Uber driver too because they’re full on making out in the backseat. Again. Eddie has never done this, never been in a relationship with someone he can’t keep his hands off, never had that horny teenage experience. And now he’s forty years old and he’s all but dry humping his boyfriend in the back of an Uber. 

They don’t let go of each other as they get out of the car (Eddie apologizing profusely to the driver) and stumble into Richie’s apartment building. Richie clutches at Eddie’s hand and Eddie keeps on leaning into his side. They wave at the doorman, who smiles knowingly at them, as they enter the lobby and wait for an elevator. 

Eddie knows it’s cliche, but as soon as the elevator doors close behind them he pushes Richie back against the wall and kisses him. Richie holds onto Eddie’s waist and kisses him back. Too soon the doors are opening again on the 18th floor and then Richie is dragging him towards the apartment, dropping his keys as he tries to unlock the door. Eddie takes the keys from him and unlocks the door himself while Richie complains that he could have done it himself. 

Richie pushes Eddie against the wall as soon as they’re inside. Eddie’s chest twinges slightly in pain, but he ignores it and bites at Richie’s bottom lip. 

“Bedroom.” He gasps, and Richie nods. Instead of letting Eddie go he grabs at his hips and lifts him, and Eddie instinctively wraps his legs around Richie’s waist.

“There’s no way you can carry me all the way there.” Eddie tells him.

“I can if I do this.” Richie says, and then he starts walking sideways, so that Eddie’s back slides against the wall. It’s completely ridiculous and Eddie snort laughs and buries his face in the crook between Richie’s shoulder and his neck.

“Don’t laugh! It’s smart! I’m using physics, that’s hot right?” Richie insists, but he’s laughing too, and Eddie laughs harder. He’s so fucking happy. He never knew a person could be this happy.

“Yes! Good job! Now let me down so we can get to the bedroom in the next year!” Eddie exclaims.

“Okay, okay.” Richie allows, letting Eddie go and allowing himself to be dragged towards the bedroom. As soon as they enter the room, he picks Eddie up again and carries him to the bed, almost tossing him down and letting him fall on his back.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He says, and then he pulls his shirt over his head and lowers himself down on top of Eddie, who grabs at his shoulders and pulls him close. He fucking loves Richie’s shoulders. Richie isn’t the most in-shape guy ever, but he has wide, muscular shoulders that Eddie perpetually wants to sink his teeth into. He does just that, making Richie thrust against him roughly. 

“What else have you always wanted to do?” He asks, grinding up against Richie.

“Jesus, were you serious about that earlier?” Richie asks.

“As a heart attack.” Eddie replies. “There’s lube and condoms in my bag.”

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Richie replies, kissing Eddie firmly. “Do you want me to fuck you? Or - I’d let you - if you wanted you could -”

“You fuck me.” Eddie interrupts. “I’d love to fuck you sometime, but I have to know how it feels, Rich, I _ have _to.”

Richie nods and raises himself up on his knees. “You get the stuff, your suitcase has so many pockets, I’ll never find it.” 

Eddie nods and sits up, pulling off his shirt as he does so. His chest and back are now bandage free, but he does have two large scars from his wound. Richie’s fingers run gently over the scar on his back as he gets up, an odd sensation of warmth against scar tissue. Eddie grabs the lube and condoms from his bag (they’re tucked into the same pocket that the dildo was in) and turns back towards the bed, only to get nailed in the face by a sock that Richie had taken off and thrown at him.

Richie is laughing again (the little shit), and Eddie throws the condoms at him in retaliation and then returns to the bed. He stops at the foot of the bed and takes off his pants and underwear, and that makes Richie stop laughing. Richie sits up on his knees and rests his hands gently at Eddie’s sides.

“Let me prep you?” He asks, moving his hands slowly around to Eddie’s ass. Eddie shudders at the touch and nods, climbing onto the bed. Richie guides him onto his back, stuffs a pillow beneath his hips, and then takes Eddie’s cock in his mouth.

“Oh fuck.” Eddie says, turning his head to the side and gripping at the blankets beneath him. He hears the pop of the cap being opened on the bottle of lube. There’s a pause and then there a finger is running along his entrance.

It’s warm, which means that Richie warmed the lube with his fingers before touching Eddie with it. The consideration of the little action makes Eddie’s heart feel warm, and then Richie swallows around his cock as he slowly pushes a finger into Eddie, and Eddie knows he makes some sort of inhuman noise.

Richie is slow and thorough. He spends a few minutes just getting Eddie used to the one finger before adding another one, making scissoring motions. It’s better than when Eddie had tried doing it himself. Richie has a better angle, and longer fingers, and there’s something about someone else doing it that makes it so much better. It’s still a bit odd, but Eddie thinks that having someone’s finger in your ass is probably always going to feel a little odd. And then Richie pushes his fingers in further and they rub against something inside Eddie and his hips jerk back against him.

Richie pulls up off Eddie’s dick and says, “There it is.” And Eddie lets out a breathy laugh. 

“Come on, Rich.” He says. “I need more.”

“Bossy, bossy.” Richie says, but he adds another finger, focusing more on stretching Eddie out than teasing him now. In mere minutes Eddie is all but begging for it, bucking his hips back against Richie’s hand.

“Come on, Richie, I don’t have all fucking day.” He complains, and Richie laughs.

“Don’t you though?” He asks, and Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows so he can glare at Richie properly.

“Richard I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me in the next five minutes I will go get that dildo and do it myself.”

Richie raises his free hand defensively and then fumbles around for a condom. He gently pulls his fingers out of Eddie and then rips the package open. Eddie watches as he shimmies out of the rest of his clothes and strokes himself to full hardness before rolling the condom down over his cock. He opens the bottle of lube and pours some onto his hand before stroking himself, and then he carefully positions himself between Eddie’s spread legs.

It’s a vulnerable position, to be spread open like this, allowing someone to enter him, but it’s just Richie, so Eddie is strangely calm. Richie looks him straight in the eye, a questioning look on his face, and Eddie realizes that he’s asking for permission. 

“Come on, fuck me.” He tells his boyfriend, and then Richie is lining up and pushing in slowly.

It’s different than anything else he’s ever felt. The dildo had been a somewhat similar sensation, but Richie’s cock is warm and alive and attached to Richie, which makes it completely different. There’s a little bit of pain as he stretches to accommodate the intrusion, but Richie had prepped him well and the pain fades as quickly as it had come. 

When Richie is almost all the way in he leans forward, balancing above Eddie with his elbows on either side of Eddie’s head, and kisses him deeply, which distracts Eddie completely from the strangeness of the sensation and instead makes him focus on Richie, Richie, Richie. And Richie is rocking against him gently and the pleasure starts. 

Eddie can’t believe that he went forty years without experiencing this kind of pleasure. Sure, he’s jerked off, and he didn’t hate fucking women, but the kind of please that comes from _ getting _ fucked is entirely different. It’s a kind of burning warmth that demands _ more _ and _ faster _ and _ yes like that. _ The kind of pleasure that he can only accept and ride out. His head tilts back and his eyes shut and he bites his lip.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Richie says. His voice is rough, strained as if he’s tensing every muscle in his body. “Like this. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Eddie asks. He’s not sure how he feels about the term. ‘Beautiful’ is usually used to describe women, but he likes the idea that Richie thinks _ he’s _beautiful.

“Yeah. And hot, of course, you’re always hot, but the way you just take it.” Richie lets out a groan as he thrusts a little bit deeper. Eddie wraps his legs around Richie’s waist in encouragement, pushing his heels against the base of Richie’s spine. “It’s fuckin beautiful.”

By this point, Eddie’s stopped thinking about Richie’s word choice. He’s stopped thinking about much of anything but the pleasure building as Richie continues to thrust. He reaches down to stroke himself but Richie knocks his hand away and takes a hold of Eddie’s cock himself. The dual pleasure of it has him arching his back, and Richie takes the opportunity to bite at his neck. 

Eddie’s feels himself getting close, and he tightens his grip on Richie’s shoulders and thrusts back against his cock. “Fuck, I fucking love you, oh fuck.” He says between gasps, and Richie fucking _ whimpers _ against Eddie’s neck, and then Eddie is coming in hot spurts between their bodies.

Richie comes a few seconds later with a deep groan, and that’s an odd sensation as well, the heat that Eddie feels from inside him. Richie collapses on top of him for a second, and then pulls himself up and gently removes himself from Eddie, flopping down on his back next to him.

“Fuck.” He says, and Eddie nods in agreement. Richie takes off the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the garbage can next to the beside table. He stands up and walks to the bathroom. He comes back a minute later with a warm washcloth, and he cleans the cone off Eddie’s chest. and then he throws an arm around Eddie’s waist and tugs him closer.

The sensation of skin on skin post orgasm isn’t quite as hot and heavy as it had been a few minutes before, but it’s comfortable and warm and Eddie nuzzles into the touch.

“Good?” Richie asks, and Eddie nods again. There are no words. He feels boneless and spent. And so warm. He closes his eyes.

“Holy shit, did I fuck you into a coma? I gotta tell you Eds, this is doing wonders for my ego.” Richie tells him, and Eddie smacks his arm lightly.

“You’re a dick.” He mumbles against Richie’s chest.

“I love you too.” Richie says jokingly, and then his voice softens and he traces a finger along Eddie’s spine. “So fucking much.”

Eddie hums in agreement. He feels Richie laugh beneath him. 

“Go to sleep.” Richie tells him. “We’ve had a long day, we can deal with unpacking tomorrow.” 

Richie pulls the blankets up over the both of them and lays down on his back. Eddie tucks himself into Richie’s side. He can hear Richie’s heart beating. He closes his eyes and almost instantly falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a monster of a chapter, and it’s just the beginning. I’ll probably be a bit slower updating this than TEA, but I promise I’m working on it! Thanks to everyone for reading and encouraging me to continue this story!


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